Lucky Misery
by Peachy Garlic
Summary: Keladry has determination, as she has proved time and time again, and won’t settle for anything less than what she wants. Yet the life of an intellect is not as simple as Kel believes. And the Mindelan girl will realize that no one goes...[see inside]
1. Chapter 1 : Second Best

**Title: Lucky Misery**

**By: Peachy Garlic**

**Beta: Seadragon**

**Disclaimer:** All of the characters belong to Tamora Pierce. I own the plotline. Italicized quotes are taken directly from the works of Tamora Pierce.

**Rating:** PG-13 (to be safe)

**Summary:** Keladry has determination, as she has proved time and time again, and won't settle for anything less than what she wants. Yet the life of an intellect is not as simple as Kel believes. And the Mindelan girl will realize that no one goes armed with nothing to face the world and its problems. Least of all herself.

#%&%#

_Take these plastic people_

_Read their lips, now let it linger_

_Is there anything that makes them sound sincere?_

_Tightly hold your hand_

_Take a deep breath_

_Give them the finger_

_Are you worried _

_That your thoughts are not quite_

_Clear?_

_--Our Lady Peace_

#%&%#

**Chapter 1**

_ "It isn't right," she said quietly, even fiercely. "No boys have probation. I'm supposed to be treated the same."_

_ "Don't give your answer yet," Baron Piers said quickly. "Take the letter with you. Think about what it says. You're not hasty, Kel. This is a bad time to start."_

_ The stone was out; her mind was made up. If they couldn't treat her the same as they would the boys, then she wasn't going to settle for half portion. She would have to become a warrior some other way._

#%&%#

Kel wandered a distance away from the river, allowing the cool breeze to caress her face. Coming to a moss-covered rock, she took a seat on it, carefully rearranging herself until she was comfortable. Then she took out the letter and read it again, bristling at the indignation of it all. One thing she knew was that she would never settle for anything less than what she deserved. How she _longed_ to prove herself to the training master, to show him that she didn't need him and his probation, that it wouldn't stop her from succeeding. But she wouldn't ever let herself be brought down to the level of a sexist pig. _Would she?_

_She would have to become a warrior some other way._

But how? The chance of her becoming one of the Royal Ladies was very slim. She couldn't join until she was fifteen, and that seemed like ages away. What would she do until that time, with her brothers roaming the lands, and her parents involved in all sorts of diplomatic and political affairs that ranged across two continents? She shook her head. There wasn't any way she could possibly become affiliated with the palace warriors unless she was trained there.

She traced her finger over the rough edge of the handmade paper. She couldn't go to the convent, of that she was sure. There was no option of her at all joining a group of women who sat in their armchairs and knitted over tea, biscuits, and the latest gossip. _Some_ ladies had chances to fight, but only if they lived on fiefs in 'trouble zones'. The chance of her marrying a nobleman with such a fief was slim, the chance of her marrying _at all_ was much worse. She hadn't forgotten what her sister-in-law had said. Kel's mind was filled with horrid visions of growing old, never having accomplished anything, of not having any purpose. Of being lost.

_ Of being a failure._

It was such a _daunting_ thought. There was no way she would be able to live with knowing that her life, short as it may be, had been a complete waste. She shuddered and nestled deeper into the thick carpet of green on the boulder. She would make use of the time given to her. She would not be a failure. She would prove to the world that Mindelan was not a name to be looked over or tossed aside.

There was one option left to her. One that she knew was only vaguely possible. Sighing, she lifted herself out of the cradle of the rock. Stretching and re-adjusting the strap of the horn the guardsman had given her, Kel headed back for home, thoughts buzzing in her head.

#%&%#

Ilane of Mindelan paced her study, her ornate pink silk kimono swishing and raising small clouds of dust on the floor. She turned to face her youngest daughter, her eyes filled with confusion, resting her palms on the supple bamboo of her desk.

"The Royal University? Who put this fanatical idea into your head?"

"No one, mama. I thought of it on my own."

Ilane paused to give Keladry a sidelong glance.

"Are you aware of the schedule at the university? How much work is involved? How much time and effort you will be putting into your educational studies?"

"Yes, mama. It is my only option."

"What about page training? Have you discarded that plan as well?"

"I won't settle for second best, mama."

The baroness hesitated, causing Kel to stamp in frustration.

"Mama, I want to do something_ productive_ with my life. I think this is the right path for me to take to do that."

The fierce determination in her daughter's eyes decided Ilane. She beckoned to Kel and wrapped her in her arms. Kel rubbed her cheek against the soft fabric of her mother's kimono, feeling safe and protected. She would regret leaving home, she knew, but was determined to show the world just how much she could accomplish without anyone else's help. That would show the king. She didn't need his half-hearted offers to succeed.

She would do it all on her own.


	2. Chapter 2 : Nealan

**Chapter 2**

> Kel's jaw dropped.
> 
> The university was _huge_.

Never had she before envisioned a structure such as this. The huge granite blocks that formed its main walls were a dull gray and were immeasurably thick. An arch with large wooden doors led to its interior. The sides of the archway were carved with scenes from the history of Tortall. Kel made a mental note to herself to inspect them more carefully later as she passed through, her father at her back.

The passage through the gate led to the grounds. These were also very little like what she had expected. Instead of solid concrete and neutral color, like the outside, a brick walkway wound around and crossed through a green lawn, spread with patches of blossoming flowers and trees that shaded well-hidden benches. She even saw a few students here, completing work or merely out to enjoy the day.

She halted for a moment, to let the scene sink in and to let her father walk ahead of her. She could hear the faraway sound of sparrows and finches in some distant courtyard. Kel then fell into step after Baron Piers, knowing that at least _he_ knew hisway around.

Piers turned a corner and his daughter found herself in a large, cavernous hallway, their footsteps reverberating off of the walls. Kel felt very small as she walked meekly behind her father.

The hall had statues of famous men and women placed every few feet. Looking more closely, she found that they each represented one of the past monarchs, knights, and scholars of the kingdom. Suits of decorative armor were also placed there, and doors lined both sides. A few were ajar and Kel saw rows upon rows of seats that faced a dais. On the platform were a slate and a chair. Standing beside the slate and writing upon it or sitting in the chair and lecturing were the professors. Each mahogany portal had a small brass plate laid into it, engraved with a number. She followed the numbers and was instantly baffled.

_ Three-hundred and four, then six-hundred and ten, and, next, thirteen? _

Kel decided not to bother her father about it and looked over his shoulder ahead. Her eyes caught sight of a larger gate that led through a stairway and into a glass wall. Through it she could see men, all impeccably dressed, bustling here and there, quills out, watching their colleagues, walking, talking, moving, searching, and working.

Piers tuned around and walked along the wall to rap his knuckles lightly on a door of thick frosted glass. It opened to reveal an older man, his hair a light gray, nearly white.

"Piers," he said in a light, breathy voice, "How good to see you."

"And good to see you as well, Master Lindhall. I hope I find you well?"

"Naturally, naturally," said the man airily, waving away the courtesies with his hand. Kel's father had to work hard to suppress his amusement. "And who is this? Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting today?" He turned to Kel.

With her father's approving nod, she spoke.

"Keladry of Mindelan, sir."

"Charmed," remarked Lindhall, turning back to the baron. "She is young to be coming to us so early, but the younger the better. A fresher mind picks up faster. Now, Keladry, I will give you your schedule, show you about, and lead you to your rooms and show you the one you will study under. The professors will tell you the rules tomorrow. But first I will give you a moment to say goodbye. You may leave your bags here. Someone will take them to your rooms."

He walked briskly from the room, mages' robes billowing behind him.

The baron gave her a knowing look and shook her hand. Kel gave him a tight hug and clung to him for some time. He brushed his hand over and through her hair comfortingly. Pulling her away, he clapped her hands on her shoulders, kneeling to get a better look at her face. Then with a final bow, Yamani-style, he was gone.

#%&%#

Kel flopped onto her bed, mind buzzing. She was amazed at the speed with which the university had accepted her. Only three days and she was already here, already getting settled. It was rather odd that the university had taken her so young, but she was only to be an understudy, preparing for her later years, so she only had a few specialized classes with professors that her father had particularly wanted her to take.

She had given her dorm a good, thorough organizing, making sure her lucky waving cats from the Yamani Islands were safe and that her clothing was tucked away in the simple oak dresser the university had provided her with. She also had three shelves, a closet, a sturdy desk, a cup for writing utensils, and a small privy through a beaded curtain that she had brought with her. This included a bathtub, a luxury she was sure that the pages did not have at the palace. Yet she was positive they would have made sure she had her arrangements for separate female bathing there as well.

She wondered how well the men of the academic world would react to her. As far as she knew, she was the only one who had chosen the intellectual path. Yet there might yet be someone else whom she could identify and confide with.

She certainly hoped so.

#%&%#

The first thing Keladry did that morning was to look out the small window into a tiny courtyard that consisted of a rose bush and a bench under a willow tree, surrounded by hedge and walkway. She could hear the sparrows clamoring and fighting, although she could not see them. She smiled and pulled out some corn loaf, crumbling it on the windowsill. She then dressed quickly and made herself ready for the day.

The morning was cold and gray, as was the stone under Kel's feet. She cursed her idiocy to have forgotten a decent pair of slippers. Ending up standing on top of her pillow, she rammed her tunic over her head and straightened it on her steadily broadening shoulders. As she was struggling with her breeches, a knock sounded at the door.

Cursing silently, she yelled.

"Who is it?"

"Should I wait?"

She recognized Master Lindhall's voice.

"Yes please, I'll just be a moment."

After pulling on the annoyingly tight article of clothing, she pulled open the door, dancing from foot to foot on the cold flagstones. Master Lindhall looked very rushed, his ordinarily neat white hair out of its horsetail.

"I have to get to the palace in Corus. I'm late for the start of the term." He gave her a smile. "I leave it up to my friend here to explain everything to you."

With that, he walked down the hall and out of sight. Kel knew his brusque manner would take some getting used to, and turned to see whom he had left.

The young man standing before her was evidently in his mid-teens. His light brown hair was elaborately pushed upward and backward from a highly defined widow's peak. His eyebrows were high set over a pair of merrily dancing green eyes. His mouth and chin were both stubborn, his cheekbones high, his build tall. He was about a foot higher off the ground than she was.

He gave her a little wave.

"Nealan of Queenscove, at your service! May I come in?"

"Yes," said Kel breathlessly, still skipping about, as she opened the door for him. He strode forward and wandered over to her desk, picking up her schedule. He studied it for some time, then nodded, satisfied. Beckoning for her to follow, he strode out of the door. Shoving on her shoes, she followed as he led her outside into the small courtyard.

He strode over to a sunlit bench and patted the wood beside him. She flopped down and caught her breath as he began to talk.

"I was actually supposed to go to the palace to begin page training earlier this year," he said with a wry smile. "But Lindhall insisted on my staying. There were some last minute things he had to go through with me. The excuses changed and changed. I don't think they wanted to lose a single mind here while the Immortals War was raging. And they needed healers. So finally he said that I was needed to train an understudy, someone whom I would teach and show around during my spare time. Not that we have any," he added dryly. "And when I have any at all, I usually head up to the palace to check up on my father. He needs management."

Kel didn't know what to make of the sarcastic young man. He pretended not to notice her skeptical look and continued.

"So you'll have a lot of work to do. I'm also in some of the beginning classes, so I can help you there. When I have to go to other classes, such as magecraft, you will return to your rooms and work on anything the professors have assigned you. When I come back, I will be instructing you as well in debate and help you with anything that troubles you. Got it?"

> "Yes."
> 
> "Good. We start classes in an hour. What's your name again?"
> 
> "Keladry of Mindelan."
> 
> "Well, mademoiselle Keladry, shall we break our fast?"
> 
> #%&%#

After a sumptuous meal of cottage cheese, apricots, almonds, and a large bowl of oatmeal, Kel was ready to seize the day _and _throttle it. Neal had eaten a granola bar and some preserved fruits on bread. Keladry disapproved of so much sugar in the morning, but felt out of place when she gave him a disapproving look. Nealan, on the other hand, laughed, and explained to her that he needed more than just fiber to keep his bones together. Kel couldn't help but smile.

The first class she didn't mind. The master gave her a seat at the front. She pulled out a bound book of leaflets with which to take down information. He spoke rapidly, and was, to her great dismay, a terrible spitter. She shielded her face as best she could with pitying looks from students on either side of her. Neal was to her right and kept cracking wicked jokes out of the corner of his mouth. At least his humor made the situation a little less miserable.

The subjects were etiquette, and the Thak language, something Keladry was fairly interested in. She had never known that the words in Old and New Thak could be used in spells for the Gifted. Sometimes she wished she had the Gift. That she could perform magic and make everything and everyone go away with a loud pop.

The next class, as she discovered while hurriedly gathering all of her belongings and scrambling across the hall to keep up with Neal, was history and reading. The class immediately afterward was writing, but they didn't have to go anywhere-the other teacher migrated over to their lecture room to speak. Both were droners and their voices nearly put her to sleep, but at least she could make some sense of what they said.

Her favorite event of the morning was the sciences. She found it fascinating how the professor managed to make everything sound so alive and wonderful. She loved animals and plants, and this class only made her eager to go explore the university gardens as he explained what type of flower was in some of the patches and how it reproduced.

The other class she had to endure was mathematics. She scribbled down problems until her hand ached. The professor didn't make mathematics interesting at all. Just busy work.

_ If he doesn't make it interesting, what's the point?_

She noticed that all of the classes were filled with younger people, only about a year or two older than her. These were the basic classes of the place, the lowest level from which the greatest rose.

The workload was spectacular. She had to write a formal letter explaining Thak incantations, make a table of the words said to different nobility, compare the Old and New Thak in an essay, summarize and write down ideas on the day's lecture and prepare for a debate tomorrow, read the first chapter in a book she had been given, finish an autobiography they had worked on in class, collect samples from the greenhouse and the gardens from one flower, and complete the problems she had copied down and begun in mathematics. As she left for lunch, following Neal, buried in books and papers, she wondered if she would ever grow to like this sort of life.

> She didn't count on it.


End file.
